


Curable Conditions

by TMar



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, Fuck Or Die, Pon Farr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 07:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17055707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMar/pseuds/TMar
Summary: A Vulcan male involved with a cure for the Tarellian Plague is on the Enterprise when he goes into pon farr. He hears of a way to transfer the pon farr to someone else. Guess who he picks? Jean-Luc Picard. Obviously.





	Curable Conditions

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in September 1992. Imagine my surprise when Star Trek Voyager did an episode with a similar premise!

CURABLE CONDITIONS

Selik was about as excited as a Vulcan could allow himself to be at being on  
board a starship - that is, he walked around nodding impassively and saying  
"Interesting" to everyone about everything. Selik had never been offworld  
before, being quite young for a Vulcan - twenty-three standard years. However,  
he was one of the few Vulcans (actually, one of the few sentients) who had  
studied the Tarellian Plague exclusively, and he was presently due to give his  
findings to a medical conference being held aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise.

The crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise, N.C.C. 1701-D, clearly had personal  
feelings about this particular plague, but he couldn't understand why. After  
all, the vaccine and cure he and a few others had developed were obsolete,  
only having been studied on the extremely remote chance that some Tarellians  
may have remained alive. Selik didn't think there was any chance at all, but  
hope never quite died.

The Vulcan had noticed the ship's Counselor, Deanna Troi, looking at him  
in a strange way a few times, but she said nothing until he broached the  
subject with her. She explained her reasons for being interested, and he quite  
understood. He told her that all the people on the Enterprise would be  
vaccinated first, and then the vaccine would be replicated to safeguard the  
rest of the population of the Federation.

***

There were three other Vulcans on board the Enterprise, there as a back-up  
medical team, and also there to show Vulcan's interest in this conference. The  
Vulcans had considered all the variables in allowing Selik to go off-planet  
at his age, before he had been properly married, but they had decided that it  
could not be helped. His bond-mate had pressing business on Vulcan and could  
not go with him, but Selik was not deprived of female company. Even his fellow  
Vulcans noticed this - in fact, he seemed to have a throng of young human  
females all around him whenever he stepped out of his quarters. And he didn't  
even seem to mind!

***

Captain Picard stood outside the ship's holodeck, waiting for clearance to  
enter so that he could speak to his Chief Medical Officer. He knew she often  
came to the holodeck to exercise when Deanna was otherwise occupied, and he  
much preferred to speak with her in person than over the comm panels.

Beverly Crusher was practising a particularly stunning Orion dance (she  
wanted to enter the ship's annual dance competition with something unusual)  
in a stunning Orion creation. It was supposed to be a dress, but it was  
slashed in all the right places so that it showed more of the person inside  
it than it really ought to. Which was, of course, the whole point of dresses  
in a society where women were trained to be sensual and attract men, and even  
auctioned off at times!

When the computer told Picard he could enter, the captain stepped in to  
find Beverly setting up to start the number again. The dress showed bits of  
hip, thigh, back... and other parts of the doctor's anatomy. Picard just stood  
there, feeling a slight flush creep over his face as he wondered if Beverly  
would find this embarrassing. He knew he did.

But Crusher merely turned around and smiled her disarming smile, straight  
at him. "Captain. Like the dance?"

"Oh... ah... yes," Picard got out.

"It's an old Orion number. Just the thing for the competition."

"I thought you didn't want to be called the Dancing Doctor anymore?"

Her smile warmed. "I don't. I'm telling everyone that I'm an amateur.  
After all, this isn't like the dancing I did way back when."

Picard smiled politely, not sure how to take that. He was about to open  
his mouth to state his business, but Crusher beat him to it. "It's the  
Tarellian vaccine you're here about, isn't it? You've sent word to the  
Tarellians, and now you want to know if we can bring them aboard."

"Yes." Funny how Beverly always seemed to know what was on his mind,  
Picard thought, watching Beverly towel herself off as she said, "Once we've  
all been vaccinated, I don't see why we can't beam them over. We can transport  
the cure to their vessel as soon as the researchers present their findings to  
the conference."

"You think the vaccine will work?"

Beverly looked thoughtful, and very cute standing there in that dress  
with such a look on her face. "They have the studies of the plague and have  
tested it on the humanoid/computer models, which are 99.9% accurate, so I  
think so. And anyway, if we beam the cure over first, Wyatt Miller should be  
able to tell us if they've been cured."

"Good." Picard turned to leave to 'make it so'. "I think I will enjoy  
this year's competition," he said as he exited the holodeck.

Beverly stood there, wondering what to make of that remark. "Thanks," she  
finally said to no one in particular.

***

Two days later the Tarellian ship rendezvoused with the Enterprise. "Picard  
to Tarellian ship."

"Captain Picard, so nice to see you again," responded Wrenn, the head of  
the small group. "And as you can see, your young human doctor is still with  
us, as well."

Picard was relieved to see Wyatt Miller move forward. "Hello, Captain."

"Doctor Miller. Prepare to receive the cure for the plague as soon as the  
medical conference is over."

"Yes, Captain." But the frequency didn't terminate. "Tell me - is Deanna  
still aboard?"

"Oh, yes."

"Give her my love. I hope to see her soon."

"I'm sure she's looking forward to seeing you, too," said Picard, before  
Worf closed off the channel.

The Tarellians still had tow days to wait because the conference would  
only take place the next day. Picard hoped their wait would be worth it.

***

"Would you care to inspect our access crawlways?" Data was asking Selik, who  
before today had been interested in every aspect of the ship. Data had seen  
him in the corridor and, since part of his programming was to be helpful where  
possible, he asked. Selik turned and looked at him, frowning. "No, I would  
not," he said curtly, and stomped off. Data shrugged, a gesture he'd learned  
from Riker, and went on his way.

He found Geordi and Deanna in Ten Forward. As luck would have it, they  
were discussing the young Vulcan.

"He seemed ill or something when I spoke to him," Geordi was saying. "Do  
you sense anything?"

Deanna shook her head. "Vulcans block their emotions easily. I don't  
sense his feelings as I would from humans, but I don't think Selik is well.  
He looks too pale to me."

"Yeah, and clammy. I shook hands with him today, and... well, most  
Vulcans have dry hands because of their body temperatures. His temperature was up, I could see that, but his hands were damp. Now that's unusual."

"What did Beverly say?" inquired Deanna.

"She said she couldn't do anything unless he came and told her he wasn't  
well, or if he collapsed or something like that. The Vulcans have a strict  
code of privacy."

"Excuse me," put in Data. "I have had a similar experience with Delegate  
Selik. He is usually most courteous, but today he seemed somewhat hostile."

"Yeah," said Geordi. "A lot of people have been saying that very thing  
to me."

"Could it be some Vulcan disease we do not have complete information on?"  
Data wanted to know.

Deanna looked thoughtful. "That is probably what it is. The Vulcans never  
admit weakness readily. Sometimes they're not as logical as they act."

Geordi nodded. "Yeah. Remember that ambassador... uh... Sarek. Even his  
closest friends wouldn't admit there was anything wrong."

"And is there nothing we can do?" said Data.

"Not unless he consents, and, being a Vulcan, I doubt he will."

***

Selik stood against the wall in the VIP quarters, breathing hard. No, no, no!  
He fought to regain some kind of control over his physiological responses, to  
push down the rising tide of Vulcan hormones in his body that were starting  
to torment him. I am a Vulcan, I can control!

But even as he thought it, he knew that this time there would be no  
control. This time, there would only be a loss of control, and because he was  
not on Vulcan, this loss of control would mean death.

All Vulcan males feared the onset of pon farr, and many counted  
themselves lucky when the first onset of the condition did not occur during  
their teenage years. Pon farr averaged every seven years from the first onset,  
but so far no Vulcan scientists had been able to predict when that first onset  
would be.

Selik had taken the chance of going off-planet because he was one of the  
few who were able to perform the task allotted, but now he was thinking of how  
reckless he had been. Idiot! he thought to himself. Now you're going to die,  
and the conference will be stalled, and everything could be ruined.

He started to activate the comm panel to call one of the other Vulcans,  
but then he stopped. They would understand, but they would find it  
distasteful, as all Vulcans did. He did not want to be the object of someone  
else's distaste. He had started medical studied because he wanted to cure  
those obscure things that no one thought about... and he had, foolishly, he  
knew, hoped that somehow, somewhere, he'd find a cure for pon farr. Stupid,  
he thought. Pon farr was something wired into every Vulcan's genetics. And  
even if they found a way to change that, it would still take generations.  
Selik knew that, for him, there was no way out.

So he went out and prowled the ship, knowing that there was nothing  
anyone could possibly do to help him... or was there?

***

In Ten Forward, he ordered a particularly strong Vulcan drink specifically  
designed to calm down victims of pon farr for a short while - thought of  
course no Vulcan would admit to the drink's use, especially as it tended to  
intoxicate humans. It didn't stop pon farr, of course, it merely sedated one  
slightly to give one a few minutes of clear thought.

And as Selik sat in Ten Forward with his drink, his Vulcan ears picked  
up a conversation about himself... and he found the solution.

***

Deanna, Geordi, Data, and now Doctor Crusher were still discussing Vulcans and  
their medical problems. "Couldn't we just ask him what's wrong?" Crusher was  
saying, ever-practical.

"Negative, Doctor. Vulcans consider invasion of privacy the utmost in bad  
manners."

Beverly slammed her drink onto the tabletop. "Well, when Jean-Luc wanted  
to know Sarek's problem, he asked him." She looked at her fellow officers.  
"Didn't he?"

"But we don't even have a theory about what's wrong," Geordi reminded  
her.

"Perhaps it's something that can be temporarily relieved, the way Sarek's  
was," Beverly speculated.

"Do you think it's practical for every Vulcan who comes on board to  
project their emotions onto a human just so they can function?" asked Troi.  
"That makes me very nervous. Humans can bear a lot, but in this case..."

"I understand your concerns, Deanna," said Beverly. "Anyway, until we  
have some evidence that there really is anything wrong with him, I suggest we  
leave well enough alone."

They all nodded and, their drinks finished, headed off in different  
directions... And from his seat at the bar, Selik felt a profound sense of  
relief.

***

In his quarters, Selik considered the solution. Yes, it could work. It had  
never been tried for this ailment, but if it worked for a victim of a similar  
one, why shouldn't it work for him? Humans were used to giving in to and  
dealing with their baser desires. He was sure that one could handle a few  
Vulcan feelings while he gave the findings on the Tarellian Plague to the  
conference.

Filled with new purpose and hope, Selik went off to review the crew  
manifest and find someone suitable.

***

As he looked through the files, he found many possible candidates. Worf was  
his first choice, but he had heard about Klingon mating rituals and was  
concerned for the safety of the women on board. He also had to choose someone whose mind was susceptible to mindmeld, and who was quite controlled - he certainly couldn't have a berserk human running loose.

Selik went over and over his chosen candidates. For some reason, he never  
thought of projecting his feelings into a woman. No, he only looked at the  
males in the crew.

Finally, he narrowed it down to three possibles. On the spur of the  
moment, Selik decided that whichever one he met first in the corridors would  
be the one onto whom he projected the pon farr.

As luck would have it, one of his possibles was strolling by, on his way  
to discuss the Tarellian problem with his chief medical officer.

Selik encountered Captain Picard a mere sixty metres from his quarters.  
"Ah, Selik," smiled the captain. "Enjoying your first starship voyage, I  
trust."

"Indeed, Captain," replied the Vulcan, managing just, just to brush  
against Picard. As this happened, Picard was aware of a slight 'tingling'  
sensation in his brain, but he thought nothing much of it, and continued down  
the corridor.

Selik felt all the tension and baser instincts in him drain away,  
projected into the mind of the hapless starship commander. Selik knew that  
with the mental side gone, the physiological responses would begin to diminish  
as well. I can do my assigned task now, he thought. And he didn't give another  
thought to his innocent victim, who, he was certain, would have no trouble  
with a few more feelings added to his own.

***

Picard had been feeling quite bright and chipper when he'd set out, but the  
closer he came towards Sickbay, the stranger he began to feel. His hands began  
to sweat, he knew that his heart was beginning to speed up in response to the  
weird sensations he felt, and he began to breathe heavily. What the hell? he  
thought, as he came to Sickbay.

As he stepped in, Beverly looked up and smiled - and Picard had a sudden  
memory of her, wearing next to nothing, doing an Orion dance on the holodeck.  
"Captain, come in. I have the data Wyatt sent over. It supports the theory  
that the vaccine and cure developed will in fact work."

Picard could feel his hands shaking slightly, but he smiled back and sat  
down. Beverly went on to explain the vaccination procedure for the crew and  
their families, how long it should take, and so on.

Picard's hand began to shake more noticeably, and the harder he tried to  
concentrate on what Crusher was saying, the more the background seemed to   
fade away... until all he could see was Beverly: walking back and forth, swinging  
that gorgeous red hair, and talking. He didn't hear a thing she said.

When Beverly had finished outlining the procedure to be followed, she  
turned back to find Picard staring fixedly at her. "Captain?" Nothing. Beverly  
walked forward and put her hand on his arm. "Are you all right?"

The glassy stare returned to almost normal. "Oh. Ah... I'm fine,"  
answered Picard, feeling his skin tingle all over where she had touched him.

He looked at her mouth, imagined kissing it, losing himself within it... he  
wanted to touch her all over, to... Picard jumped up. "I'm fine, Doctor, just  
a little tired."

"Captain, I don't know why you're driving yourself so hard. It's not like  
it's you addressing the conference."

Picard nodded, and made a quick exit from Sickbay. He feared that if he  
stood in that room any longer, he would no longer be able to control his  
thoughts... or his responses. He decided to go to his quarters and take a cold  
shower - literally - to try to clear his head. What was wrong with him?

***

The shower didn't help. Two minutes after Picard stepped out, the thoughts  
returned. And it wasn't really the thoughts, it was... he wanted her. So badly  
he thought he would die if he couldn't have her. What are you thinking?  
Picard's conscious mind asked him.

Jean-Luc lay down and tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. All he  
could think about was Beverly in that Orion outfit, dancing on the holodeck.  
And all he wanted to do was take that Orion dress off, find out what was under  
it, and... "No!" Picard sat up in bed. There had to be something wrong with  
him. He hated to be sick, but this was something he did not want to have  
plaguing him. He knew that he had a temperature, and he knew he was also  
shaking. It was a legitimate excuse to get a doctor... but not Beverly.  
"Picard to Doctor Selar."

"Yes, Captain?"

"I feel ill. Report to my quarters."

"Yes, Sir."

***

When Selar arrived, Picard had showered again, not that it had helped much.  
The Vulcan doctor ran her medical tricorder over him, shaking her head. "I've  
never seen anything like this in humans. Adrenaline production is...  
phenomenal. No wonder you feel this way." 

"What is it, Doctor?"

Selar shook her head. "Could be some space virus we've never encountered,  
because I don't know of any human disease which could do this. It couldn't by  
any chance be the Tarellian plague?"

"Doctor, nothing from the Tarellian vessel has been transported over. We  
have only had subspace contact with them."

The Vulcan shrugged. "It looks like..." She shook her head.

"What?"

"It reminds me of a condition that... sometimes affects Vulcans. But  
humans are not subject to the same... things... that cause it."

"Doctor, don't speak in riddles, please."

"I apologise, Sir. I cannot give you the name, for it simply cannot be  
what it looks like. I will prescribe something now, and if you don't feel any  
better in the morning, I suggest you return to Sickbay." She pressed a  
hypospray against his arm, and Picard did relax a bit. "Better?"

"Yes. What did you give me?"

"A sedative."

"For?"

"To stop the production of so much adrenaline. That is what is causing  
most of your symptoms."

"Oh. Thank you, Doctor."

"You're welcome." Selar went out, and Picard tried to sleep. Eventually,  
he managed it.

***

In the morning, however, the feelings had not gone away. Selar couldn't  
understand it. Her frown alerted Picard to the fact that she suspected the  
problem but was afraid to say what it was. "Doctor, the conference is  
starting. I do not have to be there, but it is imperative that I be able to  
function afterwards when we physically greet the Tarellians."

Selar gave in. "You appear to have something which is impossible for  
humans to get."

"What!?" Picard almost shouted.

Selar, very reluctantly, started to explain, then stopped. "Captain,  
Vulcans are very private. This knowledge must never go beyond this room."

"But, Doctor, if it's contagious..."

"It isn't. In fact, how you got it is a mystery. I must have your word."

"All right."

"You have pon farr."

"The time of mating?" asked Picard, having studied a little Vulcan, and  
had it reinforced by mindmelds with Vulcans. "Doctor, I know the words, but  
what does it mean?"

"In Vulcans... it brings a compulsion to... to... mate, or die."

Picard now understood the thoughts and feelings he'd been having for the  
past two days. "What can you give me for it?"

Selar shook her head. "I could sedate you, but once the sedation wears  
off the compulsion will return."

"There's no cure?"

"It's not a disease, Sir."

Picard was getting impatient. "Doctor, give me what Commander Riker calls  
the bottom line."

"You will have to do what a Vulcan would."

"Which is?" Picard somehow knew it wouldn't be good news.

He was right. Bluntly, Selar said, "Mate, or die."

"No." He got up. "That's impossible."

"Our only alternative is to continue to sedate you. But sedation wears  
off, and too much sedation will damage your system."

"Doctor, I will not... I cannot... do what you say is the only way out.  
Sedate me, and find another way."

"Captain there IS no other way. If there were, Vulcans would have found  
it by now, as you must realise." She gave Picard a disapproving look. "Is  
there no one who would help you?"

The mere thought of being forced to... to... Picard couldn't even think  
the words... to do THAT to some hapless female member of his crew made Picard  
physically ill. "There is no one I would want to subject to something like  
that, Doctor. The matter is closed."

Selar's eyebrows lifted. "Very well, Captain. I'll prepare a hypospray.  
Go to your quarters, take a lukewarm shower, NOT a cold one, and then inject  
yourself with the sedative."

"How long will it last?"

"It will start wearing off in five hours, and you should feel well enough  
to greet the Tarellians. But after that..."

"Just give me the hypo, Doctor."

***

"Beverly, the thought of seeing Wyatt again... it's strange," Deanna Troi  
confessed to her friend as they sat in Ten Forward. "To think that he'll be  
free of that plague..."

"Did you love him?"

Deanna smiled, shook her head. "We hardly knew each other. I liked him,  
certainly. He was very... charming. He made me think more clearly. I could  
have come to love him very much, I think."

"But you didn't, not then."

"No. When he left... all I felt was great relief... and I was happy that  
he'd finally found what he was looking for."

"You don't think he might still want to marry you?"

Deanna shook her head, smiling. "No. He loves Ariana, I could tell  
immediately. A person only finds love like that once..." Troi's eyes became  
very misty, and she was obviously thinking of the one person she had felt that  
kind of love for. Beverly noticed, and pressed for details. "Well, who was he?  
Come on, Deanna, I can see you've had that kind of love."

"He was... imzadi to me."

"Beloved?"

"Yes... and more than that."

"It's Will, isn't it?"

"How did you know?" Deanna was truly surprised at Beverly's statement.

Beverly laughed. "Are you kidding? It's obvious. And now?"

"Now, we have a good friendship. Someday... who knows." She looked  
Beverly in the eye again. "Who was your imzadi? Jack?"

Beverly shook her head.

"Odan?" Another shake.

"Come on, Beverly, give me a clue," said Deanna, laughing to lighten the  
mood.

"Just someone... someone special back on Earth. He had other  
obligations."

"Is that all you're going to say?" Deanna desperately wanted to know  
more, to see if her suspicions were correct, but Beverly only replied, "Yes.  
That's all." And with that she got up, intending to see if her captain looked  
any better than he had the previous day.

***

There was no answer when she keyed the door chime, so Beverly walked in,  
hoping Picard was all right. She heard the shower and realised her mistake,  
but before she could eave, she noticed the hypospray on the counter. Picking  
it up, the doctor noticed it was filled with a very strong sedative, usually  
given to Vulcans. What does he want this for? the doctor wondered, and just  
then a dry, robed Jean-Luc Picard stepped out of the bathroom. He was,  
obviously, very surprised to see her. "Doctor?"

"Jean-Luc, I'm sorry. I thought I'd see if you were all right. You didn't  
seem well yesterday."

Lying through his teeth, Picard replied, "I'm fine."

"Then what's this for?" She held up the hypo.

"Doctor Selar prescribed that. I've been feeling a little jumpy."

"And you didn't come to me?" Beverly tried to remember exactly what that  
particular sedative was used for, and remembered that it was often given to  
Vulcans who were off-planet during the onset of pon farr.

The Vulcans had never mentioned pon farr to anyone, but a confidential  
notation by Admiral Leonard McCoy, M.D., in the Vulcan physiology course given  
to non-Vulcan doctors, mentioned a few things: what it was, the implications,  
and the treatments. All medical options were short-lived, and were for  
emergencies.

Beverly couldn't reconcile what she remembered with Picard's strange  
behaviour, and with Selar's prescription of a sedative normally used to knock  
out victims of pon farr for hours at a time. Pon farr seemed the logical  
explanations, but Jean-Luc Picard wasn't a Vulcan. Had he managed to catch  
some alien disease? Crusher had to know. "Jean-Luc, tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, Doctor."

"This is a Vulcan sedative. I know what the Vulcans use it for. Now, are  
you going to tell me, or must I ask Selar?"

Picard said nothing.

"Jean-Luc, I'm not leaving until I get some answers."

And Picard definitely wanted her to leave, before he did something he  
would regret. "Doctor, please."

"No." Beverly pressed her communicator. "Doctor Selar, report to Captain  
Picard's quarters."

***

When Selar came in, Picard was still standing at the entrance to the bathroom,  
and Beverly was glaring at him from across the room. She was still holding the  
hypospray. "What's going on?" asked Crusher in a tone that brooked no argument  
or evasions.

Selar turned and said, very simply, "The captain is in pon farr."

Beverly's eyes widened. It was hard to believe, but she trusted her  
Vulcan colleague. "What can you do about it?"

"I can sedate him... but, Doctor, we both know that sedation is only a  
short-term solution. There is really only one solution to the condition that  
is pon farr."

"Sex." Beverly had no time to put things delicately.

"Affirmative," Selar replied. "However, the captain has refused that  
particular avenue of help."

Beverly moved towards Jean-Luc, stopping when she noticed him backing  
away, and then began to talk. "Jean-Luc, without THAT kind of help, you'll  
die."

"Then I'll die. I'm not going to inflict this... this... condition on anyone else."

Beverly turned to Selar. "I'll discuss this, and how the captain could  
have contracted it, with you later."

Selar merely nodded, and left. Beverly walked towards Jean-Luc. "I am not  
going to let you kill yourself, Captain."

"I think that's my decision, don't you, Doctor?"

"No!" Realising she sounded slightly hysterical, Beverly took a breath  
and tried again. "The ship needs you."

"The ship will go on with Will Riker as captain."

Logic wasn't going to work, Beverly realised. So she tried the only other  
thing she could think of: emotion. "Jean-Luc, I don't want you to die. I care  
about you." And as she said it, the doctor knew what she had to do. Now she  
only had to convince Picard to let her do it. Picard merely shook his head,  
so Beverly stepped forward, right up against him. Picard made fists with both  
hands in an effort not to do anything... She said, "Let me help."

Picard did not even have the strength to move away from her. "No."

Somehow, Crusher knew she had to convince him. "Jean-Luc, I want to save  
your life, but... that's not the only reason. If it were, I'd accept your refusal. But   
I have... thought about this... about US... for ages. It wouldn't be a sacrifice."

"'It's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it.' Is that it, Doctor?"

Beverly placed her hands on his shoulders. "Jean-Luc, let me help you."

"Doctor... from what I picked up between the lines, pon farr isn't  
pleasant. For either party."

"They're Vulcans. You and I aren't." Beverly was breathing a mental sigh  
of relief: if Picard was not categorically denying it anymore, the battle was  
won.

"Beverly, please - "

"Kiss me, Jean-Luc."

***

Picard did. He kissed her just once, but then other needs took over. The  
gallant captain, who was always the gentleman, found himself just about  
ripping the doctor's uniform off, found no time to explore her body the way  
he'd always wanted to, no time to do anything except make love to her right  
there, on the floor of the lounge of his quarters... three times.

When he was finally able to think and act rationally again, Picard looked  
into Beverly's eyes. What he saw there was exactly what he had expected to  
see: nothing. No love, or hate, or any emotion of any kind, only a kind of  
acceptance. "Beverly, I'm sorry."

His chief medical officer got up off the floor (Picard hoped she wouldn't  
have bruises) and walked into the sleeping area. "Don't apologise. It's  
necessary," she said, as Picard got up and followed.

"But that..." He indicated the floor of his lounge area, "That's a  
reversion to savagery. I couldn't..."

"You couldn't help it, change it, or stop it."

Picard looked away. "No. It's terrible to lose control like that. Frightening."

"You're more frightened of yourself than anything, and worried about me."  
Beverly, totally naked, put out her hand and held it against his cheek. "Don't  
worry about me, Jean-Luc. Woman are better equipped emotionally to handle  
these things. Don't punish yourself for something you couldn't help."

Picard pulled her hand away as he felt the... COMPULSION... returning.  
"I want to be able to help it. I should be able to. I don't want to do that  
to you again."

Beverly lay down on Picard's bed, like she'd always wanted to. "I know.  
I also know that you have no choice... until this is over."

Picard stepped forward, then stopped just a foot away. How long do you  
think it will be before it's over?"

Beverly smiled faintly. "I don't know, Jean-Luc. Hours... maybe even  
days." At his look of panic she went on, "Well, the sooner you start, the  
sooner it will be over."

Hating himself thoroughly, Picard accepted the inevitable and lost  
himself to the pon farr, in this woman who was willing to do anything to help  
him... and to find a way to... love him.

***

Selik and the medical team presented the Tarellian cure to the conference, and  
it was unanimously agreed that it should be given to the last few Tarellians  
as soon as possible. "How long will it be before the cure is effected?"  
someone asked.

"Unknown," replied Selik. "We will beam it over now, and proceed to  
vaccinate everyone here. Then Doctor Miller should be able to provide us with  
the data on whether we have been successful."

"How long will it take to vaccinate everyone on board?"

Data, who attended the conference out of interest, replied. "Approximately  
five point seven hours."

Selik nodded. "We will begin with the civilians, the younger people. The  
crew will be last." He didn't know it, but he had just given Picard some extra  
time... time to complete what was necessary.

***

Deanna Troi smiled to herself when she heard the news. It was a happy time;  
and soon she would be able to share that happiness with those people who had  
travelled so far and suffered so much.

She ran into Riker, on his way to the bridge to make the announcement to  
the crew and their families. "Hi, Deanna."

"Bill."

He noted the slight smile and the look of concern on her face. "Are you  
all right?"

"I'm just... thinking."

"About Wyatt Miller?"

"Among other things. He so much wanted to cure people, and now those he  
wanted to cure most of all will be..." She trailed off as they passed Selik's  
quarters. Selik had gone to meditate, as he would not be administering the  
medicine - the Enterprise nursing staff would be handling that according to  
established Starfleet protocols. Again, Riker asked Deanna if she was okay.

"I feel... guilt."

"Guilt? Who from?"

"Selik... he's relaxed his controls... he's only now experiencing  
terrible guilt over something he did recently."

"To do with the Tarellians?" Riker was immediately worried for the safety  
of the ship and its crew, but Deanna put his mind at rest. 

"No. It feels... personal. He's done something unethical, and now he is   
facing his conscience." She attempted a smile. "I don't think it concerns the  
Tarellians. I think they'll be fine."

And Riker and Troi continued down the corridor together.

***

Beverly Crusher lay looking up at the ceiling, wondering if this was all over.  
Picard had not touched her for over an hour, so she hoped that she could now  
get on with her life. He was in a light sleep, and she briefly considered  
getting a hypospray and giving him something to make the sleep deeper so that  
he could rest. He desperately needed to rest, and, she finally realised, so  
did she. It had hurt her terribly to see the man she loved in such pain... not  
from the pon farr itself, but from what had had to be done about it. She knew  
he felt like he had violated her unmercifully, and nothing she had said had  
been able to change his mind about that. Any physical pain she'd felt had  
diminished in her hurt over Picard.

I volunteered, she thought. I WANTED to help him. Come on, Beverly, admit  
it. You've wanted him like that for years. This was a golden opportunity for you.   
That much was true; but she wondered if she should tell Picard that. Perhaps he'd   
feel as if she had taken advantage of his situation... which she had.

Picard stirred in his sleep, then woke up. "Beverly?"  
"I'm here, Jean-Luc."

"I think it's over."

"You need rest. Let me give you something."

"No. I must go and meet the Tarellians." And with that, Picard got up and  
put on a clean uniform. Beverly, however, didn't move. Picard realised this,  
but he didn't want to deal with it just this minute. "Will you be all right?"  
he asked, not willing to ask the question he really needed answered.

"Yes." Beverly answered the question Picard had not asked. That one word  
told him: I'm fine, Jean-Luc. You didn't hurt me.

"We'll talk later then," said Picard, going out, not able to stand there  
one moment longer and remember that intimacy with her. Beverly was left lying  
there, but eventually she, too, got up, dressed, and went out to face the day.

***

"Has everyone been vaccinated?" Picard asked Selar, trying not to blush as he  
spoke to her, for he knew she must realise what had happened, and who it had  
happened with. But Selar only answered his question. "Yes, Sir. Doctor Miller  
says the cure is complete, and we can beam them over at our convenience."

Picard nodded to her. "Make it so." He set off for Transporter Room Three.

When he got there, Wyatt Miller and the eight Tarellians were already  
aboard. He shook hands with Wyatt, and with Wrenn, who appreciated the show  
of faith and acceptance. "Do you know, Captain, how badly we've wanted to be  
touched and contacted by other people?"

"I can only imagine," said Picard.

"It's a relief to know that our exile is finally over."

"You may stay aboard the Enterprise until you decide where you would like  
to go. It's a very large galaxy."

"Oh, we've decided," replied Wyatt.

"You have?"

"We're going to Betazed."

That really surprised Picard. "Why?"

"Deanna once told me how beautiful it was... her father loved it there,  
said it would seduce any offworlder. We contacted them, and they agreed."

"I'm happy for you."

***

Wyatt and Ariana stood outside Deanna Troi's office, and were about to press  
the door chime when the door opened, to reveal the Counselor standing there  
smiling.

"Deanna. I should have known," said Wyatt.

"Hello, Wyatt. Ariana."

"Deanna."

"Please, come in."

Both Wyatt and Ariana stepped inside, to find tea and snacks waiting.  
Deanna bade them sit, and poured the tea. "You are married, I take it."

Wyatt looked at Ariana, who shrugged. "We didn't have any kind of  
service, if that's what you mean. You just... know... when it happens."

The counselor smiled. "When you each saw the other was real."

"Yes."

"That's a rare occurrence, to find that one person whose mind is in tune  
with yours, who puts every inch of him or herself into that bond... I think  
it's beautiful." She got up. "And I have something for you." Ducking away for  
a minute, Troi returned with a flower, which she presented to Ariana. "Wyatt's  
chameleon rose. I kept it."

Wyatt got a cynical look on his face. "They live for twenty years." There  
was a smile in his voice, and Deanna smiled even more. "Yes, I know."

"But Wyatt gave it to you, not me," Ariana protested.

The Betazoid shook her head. "I want you to have it. Call it my homage  
to true love."

"Thank you."

Deanna turned to the man she had almost married. "I can't tell you how  
happy I am for you."

"Are you, Deanna? Are you happy?"

She smiled. "Yes. Yes, I am."

"Good." Wyatt took Ariana's hand, and Deanna spoke up again. "Why are we  
just sitting here? Come, drink your tea!"

***

Picard avoided Crusher all the way back to Betazed, where they dropped off the  
Tarellians and the vaccine for the plague. Then they resumed course for Vulcan,   
where they would drop off their last passengers. And Deanna remembered what   
she was supposed to tell the captain.

"Guilt, Counselor? Over what?"

"I'm not certain, Captain. He had done something very... unethical...  
something abhorrent to Vulcans. I don't know what, but something... just  
something seemed to link it to you."

"Me?" And Picard made the connection. "Thank you, Counselor." He  
activated the comm panel. "Researcher Selik to the captain's Ready Room."

When Selik entered, he knew the game was up. Picard stood behind his  
desk, hands on his hips, looking rather fierce. "You did it, didn't you?"

"Excuse me, Captain?" 

"You projected the pon farr onto me."

"Yes."

"May I ask why?"

"My bondmate was on Vulcan, I was needed at the conference, and I could  
not function in that state. Logic dictated..."

"That you find someone else to bear that burden for you."

"Yes, Captain. I apologise."

"Do you realise how much pain you caused me?"

"Yes." Selik did, in fact, realise.

"I must report this to the Vulcan Council."

"As I would expect you to."

Picard, clearly, was still not satisfied. "Is that all?"

Selik did feel bad, but, being a Vulcan, he couldn't express his regrets  
very well. "Yes, that is all, Captain Picard. I regret whatever pain I caused you."

If only you knew, thought Picard, but did not say. What he did say was,  
"I trust you will not do it again."

"You have my word as a Vulcan."

Picard nodded, indicating that Selik should leave, which he did. And then  
Picard sat down and stared without seeing into his fish tank, trying to think  
of all that had happened between him and Beverly...

You love her, his mind told him. If you didn't, you would never have  
allowed yourself to use her as your pon farr 'cure'. That much was true. But  
however much Picard tried to remember all that had happened in that pon farr  
haze, he couldn't. He just remembered tremendous... relief. And Beverly,  
reassuring him again and again that everything was all right. Enough. Time to  
face her, and his actions, once and for all.

***

Beverly sat in Sickbay, studying the Tarellian cure, and how it had worked.  
She had to do it now, as she'd been otherwise... occupied... during the  
conference. And, suddenly, the doctor felt that she wasn't alone.

When she looked up, Jean-Luc Picard was standing in the doorway, the look  
on his face not dissimilar to the one he'd worn days ago when he'd been forced  
to admit that he needed her help to survive this Vulcan affliction.

"Jean-Luc?"

"Selik did it, using a technique similar to the one Sarek used when he  
had to conduct the mediations."

Crusher nodded. "Selar told me."

"Beverly, I - " And he stopped. "I want to apologise for everything I did  
to you."

"You didn't do anything I didn't want, Jean-Luc, I promise you."

"It's all a blur now. I hope you're right."

The doctor stood up. "I suppose this means it's the end."

"No." 

This so surprised Beverly that she could hardly get the question out.  
"What?"

"It needn't be the end. I would like to have a chance to be with you  
without that compulsion... to be with you as I've always wanted to be." Until  
he had gotten pon farr, Picard would never have dared admit it, even to  
himself. But now denying it would be pointless - and a lie.

"What?" Beverly asked again, her voice a mere squeak.

"Beverly, if you want this, come with me now."

Beverly went.

***

Later, she would reflect that spending that night with Jean-Luc had been  
completely unlike the time she had spent with him during the pon farr. He had  
been so... different. Tender and strong. Caring and forceful. Most of all, the  
thinking Picard was back. Everything he had said and done had been with  
thought, not merely with instinct the way it had been before.

Lying next to Picard now, Crusher remembered them standing together in  
his quarters just looking at each other. Slowly, he had reached out one hand  
to caress her cheek, and the other to trace the lines of her face. Then he had  
brought his face close to hers, and kissed her with a passion completely  
different from the previous time.

Beverly remembered closing her eyes and drifting along in his warmth,  
then opening them to find that Picard had walked them backwards into the  
sleeping area. Guiding her, he had sat next to her on the bed, never taking  
his eyes from her for an instant.

The rest was a wonderful, hazy blur of images and feelings and sensations  
that made the doctor tingle when she thought about it. But in amongst the  
blur, one image stood out clearly: Picard's face, above her, below her, next  
to hers. He always managed to look so serious, so impassive when he was being  
the captain. 

But Beverly had now seen the smile, seen what love, and passion, and happiness,   
could do to the face of the man she loved. He hadn't even looked at her that way   
during the pon farr... His face had been full of wanting, and sensuality, and need...   
and some other things that the doctor felt shy just thinking about. The ways in   
which he had touched her - and she him - had at last made all those cliches in   
those romance novels true.

Beverly looked at him now: in the deep sleep she knew he needed, he  
looked young and vulnerable, and oh so beautiful. She couldn't resist kissing  
him and whispering, "Jean-Luc, I love you so much, do you know that?"

Picard's sleepy eyes opened, and he smiled that sensual smile again...  
making her feel as if her soul were laid bare for him to see. "I know," he  
said, lifting his head to kiss her in return. "And I love you, Doctor."

Beverly's heart beat much faster; at last he had said the words she'd  
been waiting a lifetime to hear. But what she said was, "You need more rest."

"I know." Picard reached up and pulled her down to lie in his embrace.  
"I'll sleep much better with you here," he whispered.

Beverly snuggled into his arms then, and in her dreams she remembered  
everything.

THE END


End file.
